Remember When
by aruyo
Summary: "Even with Hambo's expert medical advice," he says, "I'd still like it if you could avoid eating radioactive snowflakes. I don't know if I could handle it if you started glowing in the dark." - Simon & Marceline.


**a/n: **That episode didn't just give me feels, oh no. It gave me _emotions_. Really spastic, hiccupping emotions that are kind of embarrassing and hard to control. So here, have some word vomit.

* * *

"Come on, Simon, try catching them with me!" She says, but the words come out garbled and nonsensical thanks to the fact that her tongue is stretched out of her mouth. Simon watches on as she cranes herself towards the falling snowflakes. He shakes his head, sighing.

"It's a nuclear winter, Marcie. Those snowflakes are poison."

Marceline turns to him and sticks out her tongue again, mockingly this time. "Oh please, Simon. I'm not some flimsy human. A little radiation won't hurt me, will it, Hambo?"

She holds up the smiling doll and makes its head shake defiantly from left to right. Despite himself, Simon smiles a little bit. He leans down to brush the snow off of Hambo's head. At times like these, it's almost hard for him to remember that they're in such a hopeless situation. Well, almost.

"Even with Hambo's expert medical advice," he says, "I'd still like it if you could avoid eating radioactive snowflakes. I don't know if I could handle it if you started glowing in the dark."

Marceline giggles. "That would be so cool, though! Do you think I would?"

"Let's not find out, shall we?" Simon replies. Marceline just blows him a raspberry and then goes off to make angels in the snow. Simon wonders where in the world this girl ever learned about angels, with her hair as dark as midnight and grey skin and bright eyes and pointed teeth.

_I'm not some flimsy human, _she had said. Marceline has yet to fully disclose anything about what she is thought, so it's mostly up to him to guess. There are a lot of things he still has yet to understand about Marceline. But then, he doesn't understand a lot of things these days, so what does it matter?

He kicks up snow with his boot, watching it fall back to the ground in a powdery cloud. It must be far below freezing right now. The clouds above block out the sun almost completely, so it's difficult to tell the time. Even so, Simon doesn't feel cold, or even tired. Well, he does feel _tired_, but that's nothing new. It's less of a physical feeling and more of a mental one. The crown saps a lot of energy.

"Simon! Simon!"

He looks up, alarmed. Is Marceline in trouble? But no. She waves cheerfully at him from a distance, holding something up for his inspection. His glasses are cracked in his pocket, only to be used for emergencies, so he sprints towards her to get a better look. Just as he gets close, however, she hides the item in question behind her back, smiling with mischief. He arches a brow at her playfulness.

"Weren't you the one who wanted me to see this?"

She rolls her eyes are him dramatically. "_Yes_, but first you have to guess which hand it's in! And I don't want to hear any buts, got it? It's no fun if you don't guess."

Simon doesn't quite see the logic in that, but the kid's life is so depressing anyways, he can't find it in himself to deprive her of some fun. He sets to work with her guessing game, pretending to peek over her shoulder. She squeaks indignantly, but it's covered by laughter.

"Don't look, Simon! I won't show you if you look."

He wiggles his eyebrows at her, which earns him another giggle. As hard as her life has been, it's not so hard to get a cheerful reaction out of her, if you know what to say. Simon would be lying if he said that this didn't make him feel just a little better. After all those things he did to Betty, it's nice to have a positive impact on someone for once, even if he knows somewhere deep down that it won't last.

After a prolonged pause for show, he lifts a finger to point at her left arm. She grins up at him. "Are you sure about that, Simon?" She says, her voice lilting.

"Yes I'm sure about that, Marceline," he replies, mimicking her. She glares, but being as she's barely as tall as his waist, it isn't very intimidating. Even if Marceline isn't really a human girl, it's hard to see her as anything else. He watches her expectantly before she finally caves, withdrawing her left hand from behind her back. Marceline doesn't much like losing her games. She holds her fist tightly closed.

Simon smiles indulgently. "Alright, I won. Now what is it?"

She pouts at him, clearly stung by her loss. But Marceline is a girl of her word, if nothing else, so without further ado, she slowly opens her palm. Simon blinks at what he finds there.

"A… necklace?" He says, perplexed. It's obviously been some time since he's actively participated in the trade, but he was an antiquarian in training once, so he recognizes it even under the crust of ice and ash. The gold, though it clearly has seen better days, still shines faintly even in the dim light. Marceline's grin far outshines it, however. He can't help but smile back. "Where did you find it?"

"On the ground over here," Marceline replies breezily. "I used to see this kinda stuff all the time on the streets, but not so much anymore. Isn't it pretty, though?"

"Very pretty," he replies indulgently. Truth be told, the chain is tangled, it's obviously missing the gemstone it was encrusted with, and it's covered in frost. But the pleased look on Marceline's face is enough to dissuade him from mentioning any of this. He's about to stand up straight again, but he stops when he feels Marceline grab his wrist. Wordlessly, she shoves the necklace into his hand.

The confused look he gives her must be self-explanatory, because she rolls her eyes dramatically. "It matches your crown, dummy. I want you to have it."

"Oh," Simon says, blinking. He contemplates giving it back to her, seeing as it's the most valuable thing within a hundred mile radius, but thinks better of it when he sees her glare. "I suppose it does."

He pockets the trinket and Marceline shoots him a pleased smile. "It's my thank you gift to you. Since you gave me Hambo and everything. Now we're even!"

Simon laughs for the first time in what feels like ages. "Yes, it seems so. Thank you, Marceline."

She waves him off. "I told you, we're even. You don't need to thank me. But…" she pauses, biting her lip. Simon contemplates reminding her that she has razor sharp teeth, but she beats him to the punch. "If we ever get separated or something, remember me with that, okay? Promise you won't forget."

It's a peculiar request, and Simon gets the impression that Marceline knows more about the situation than she lets on. Still, he'd be hard-pressed to tell her no. Even if he knows he isn't exactly able to help it, all things considered, what's wrong with giving someone a little hope?

"…Alright."

She nods solemnly. Then, without another word, she goes running off down the road in a streak of black and red. Simon groans. He knows this game well enough.

"I'm not racing you back to the house, Marceline."

"Can't hear you, Simon! You have to catch up!"

* * *

**ugh. that was. um. emotionally draining and kind of poorly put together. sorry. **

**i know that it didn't look that cold in the flashbacks, but I'm using my artistic license.**

**... my artistic license is getting revoked one of these days, isn't it. **

**oh well! hope you enjoyed this. or tolerated it. whichever. **


End file.
